And She Told Me
by Egglette
Summary: A collection of Avatar oneshots. Ch9: Song doesn't know how she wound up in the swamp. She does know she hates it and it's only making her miss her mother even more. Few good things come out of the swamp. Meeting two certain freedom fight are one of them.
1. Promises and Blind Girls

**Title: Plans by the Fire**

**Pairings: None, hinting of ZukoxSong, Zuko-Toph friendship**

**Rating: PG, very, very mild cursing. **

---------

"You know, Katara could probably heal that."

Zuko raised his head to look at the smiling boy—quickly becoming a teenager—in front of him. Suddenly he realized he was tired of tending the fire and let the flames consume the twig in his hands. From the corner of his eye, he could see Uncle taking a break from his conversation with Toph to lean in. Surprisingly to anyone paying attention, including Zuko himself, he did not glare or scowl or launch a fireball at the Avatar.

Instead he simply blinked somberly. Unfazed, Aang went on, "She's great at healing. Not that she'll be a healer or anything; she's such an awesome fighter." He paused. "Isn't she great?" A smile so wide that one might think was hurting his cheeks was on his face, and not even Zuko could find it himself to yell at him.

"Sure," he replied distantly.

"That scar sure does look nasty," he observed, not noticing at all the way the young Prince's hands clenched. "How'd you—"

"Aang!" Iroh quickly interrupted. He had been in such of a hurry to stop him from going any further he had forgotten the respectful 'Avatar' in front of his name, which he usually added. "Um, perhaps you would like to take another whack at that lightening bending?"

"Okay," Aang said, standing up. He turned to Zuko once more, causing a nearly inaudible moan from Iroh. "Really though, think about it. I'm sure she could do it." With that he left with Iroh, most likely to climb some mountain for practice.

The only person around the campfire was Toph. Katara was in the river, practicing her bending. Sokka and Aang both disliked the idea of her alone at night, so Sokka was with her, despite the fact he was probably bored to death. Momo was sleeping.

And so, out of lack of will to get up, his head rolled towards Toph. She was sprawled on the bare dirt, playing with three small rocks, too big to be pebbles. Without even moving, she barked, "What're you looking at?"

The spitfire nature of the young earthbender still took Zuko by surprise and he jumped very slightly. "Nothing," he murmured softly after collecting himself.

"Look," Toph began, "I know you don't really walk the optimistic side of life, but you've really been getting on my nerves lately." This caught Zuko's attention. He was too intrigued to get angry, for the moment.

"Whenever you walk, you sort of drag your feet or walk like you're depressed. I'm frickin' sick of it!" She was letting her temper take over, fast.

"What would you even know? You're blind!" He scowled back.

"I feel the vibrations in the earth. I can tell someone's mood by the way they walk," She was a little more calm now, speaking in a matter-of-factly voice.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Sometimes Zuko would get up to get another log for the fire, or tend it with a twig. The cackle of the fire was, surprisingly, intensely soothing.

Toph grew content again, resuming her playing with the rocks. Zuko, on the other hand, felt a growing pain somewhere vaguely in his chest. It wasn't something that would require medical attention, and he was beginning to realize what it was.

"Do you remember the ostrich-horse I had when we first met in Ba Sing Se?" He said after a while. Toph dropped her rocks and sat up.

"I remember you riding an animal," she said. "I didn't know what kind it was."

For a moment he was silent. He was collecting himself. "I stole it," he said finally. He looked to her for the reaction. She did not say nor did anything right away. Zuko relaxed somewhat, knowing he had chosen the right person to talk to.

Aang would've been shocked and very disappointed, and neither Sokka nor Katara were entirely fond of him. What he had shared wouldn't help that. Plus, like him, Toph had a disability. Maybe, in someway, she could relate.

"From who?"

"A healer," he said. "Uncle once tried to make a poisonous plant into tea"—Toph snorted—"and it almost killed him. We took him to a healing hut in the Earth Kingdom—a girl named Song invited us into her house; fed us. Later she showed me a scar she also had due to firebending. I think…" His voice lowered, "that was when I began to stop looking up to my father. I have her to thank."

"Great. Where are you going with this?" Zuko was to some extent amused by Toph.

"I just…I never got to properly thank her." There was a tone of anger in his voice.

"What happened to the ostrich-horse?" Toph had paused before speaking—this time carefully choosing her words.

"I sold it."

"What do you want me to say?" More and more, Zuko was beginning to like Toph. The way she spoke that was so blunt; a year ago it would've driven him wild with anger. But now…Zuko knew he would never really bond with anyone in the Avatar's party. He had too many times to kill them and although they accepted Iroh, he was different. They looked at him different. They saw the scar first.

Not Toph though. Because even if she weren't blind and could see the scar, she would treat him the same way she was treating him now. He knew he would never love her romantically, he knew he would never even feel anything like that towards her, but maybe, just maybe, she could be his friend.

"I'm not sure what you're fishing for," she said. She was the tiniest bit uncomfortable; Zuko could barely detect it.

"Never mind," he said, suddenly feeling dejected. "Forget I said anything." The silence between them grew so awkward that Toph threw up her hands in defeat, half-way annoyed.

"Alright, fine, here's what I'm going to tell you. When this war is over I'm taking you into Ba Sing Se and we're going to find that ostrich-horse and then we're going to visit your girlfriend's house." Zuko almost felt the need to inject that Song wasn't his girlfriend, but oddly, kept his mouth shut. "And you're going to give it back to her and apologize. So is that it? You done being depressed now Prince Broody?"

When Zuko didn't reply, Toph flopped back on her back and closed her eyes. She fell asleep quickly. Soon, he too got down and lay in front of the fire. As he watched the embers being spat into the air and then dying away, he knew he would never forget this conversation.

He knew Toph, even though she had said it almost half-asleep, would hold him to it. He shuddered at the thrill of seeing her again. He had been practicing the words for weeks and now he would have a reason to look forward to the end of the war.

"I'm sorry," he whispered aloud, as if to think she might've heard him.

--------------------------

**Yeah. I don't know why but those breaks aren't working for me.**

**This is the start of a collection of Avatar drabbles, pairings, and almost-oneshots. If you've got a crack pairing and a tiny plotline you'd like me to write, send it in a review. I'd be glad to. **

**Um, yeah. I really like the ZukoxSong pairing and I really like a Toph-Zuko friendship. I know there are tons of stories involving Zuko becoming friends with the 'gaang' but really, the only people I see Zuko being friendly with is Toph. Reasons I don't feel like explaining now.**


	2. Bastard Son

**Title: Bastard Son  
Pairing: Partly one-sided Iroh/Aunt Wu, hinted Song/Zuko  
Rating: PG-13**

--------

The scandal it would've aroused.

The dishonor on his family, on his nation, and most importantly, on his—_their_—son, would've been far too much.

She was but a lowly Earth Kingdom slave with a knack for fortunes kidnapped from her village to serve under the heir to the throne of the Fire Nation, who, at that time, had been quite handsome (although she would always find him attractive; portly and all). He was bright-eyed, fresh-faced and smart. He wasn't blind to the ways of his Nation, but he didn't seem ashamed.

So when Wu found she was in love with the Prince, she was not entirely surprised.

"Iroh," his proud father had told him. "This is your new chambermaid." He had not said her name—she doubted he even knew it, nor would he ever. Even though, and would never realize, what a role she would play in their nation.

Iroh had been different. He wanted to know about her culture, where she came from, what life was like in the Earth Kingdom. He had asked, most importantly, her name. That was the beginning. That was when she first began to love him. She was not a day over twenty-five.

When she found he was betrothed, she was crushed. But still never surprised. That was one thing about the relationship they shared; Wu found she would almost never be surprised about anything. He was a Prince; _of course_ he would be married. She was still young and had only been dreaming. What kind of future could they have together?

She was sure that her love wasn't mutual; if anything at all, she was considered a friend. And she could try to be satisfied with that.

On the eve of his wedding, Iroh had been given a bachelor party. He was a prince, so naturally it was a different kind of bachelor party than the one her brother had been thrown. There were no exotic, dancing women but there certainly had been drinking.

It had been late into the night when he stumbled in dizzily; immediately Wu knew he had had plenty to drink. He hiccupped his way over to her—she had been turning over his bed in preparation for his sleep. It would be her last night as his maid (it was improper, some believed, for a married man to have a female maid working in the bedroom).

"Evennning, Wu," he slurred. A strong, calloused hand cupped her cheek. Wu's heart began to thump harder than it ever had before. "You loookk so pretty tonight," the other hand began to rub her shoulder relaxingly. Was it any other man, she would have felt violated. But he was drunk and his actions could not be controlled, so calmly she removed his hands and led him towards the bed, where he could sleep off the drink.

Iroh obviously took this as something else and the minute they reached the bed he pulled her down with him. He began to kiss her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, someone was protesting. He was stark drunk and she was taking advantage of the situation, letting her immature, teenage-like fantasies take the reins. But, despite the horrible nagging, she did not even try to stop him. It felt so good, she reminded herself. To be caressed and kissed by the man she loved; even if it were for only one night. In the morning she would get out of bed early and he would not remember a thing. Nothing would have happened.

She felt her common sense temporarily erase the minute her maid's gown was thrown to the floor.

---

Of course, Wu would still work in the Palace. When the Fire Nation took slaves, they were never released. She also knew she was lucky; a small number of captives ever lived, let alone given an easier job in the palace.

She was given the job as the day maid for Iroh's betrothed.

Wu never found she could really hate anyone, but that didn't stop her from being severely annoyed with her Lady. She was nice enough, but she constantly forgot her name and wasn't nearly as interested with her as Iroh had been. Plus, although Wu hated sounded catty, she was fairly ditzy.

She still got to see Iroh, even if he had his muscular arms around another woman. Just as she predicted (Wu began to realize that her predictions were becoming more and more truthful), he didn't even remember. She wondered if she was his first; if she had committed a crime by taking a betrothed to bed.

Into her second month of work for the Princess, Wu began to feel different. She found herself kneeled over a bucket every morning and had the strangest cravings for food she hadn't even thought she'd like. One afternoon while her Lady was out for a walk with the teenaged Ozai, Wu spread out her tea leaves and lit her candles. With a feel of her palm, her eyes closed, she knew the cause: she was pregnant.

The very next day, her Lady declared herself to be with child.

---

Once again, Wu was not surprised to learn she would give birth alone. She was the only Earth Kingdom citizen in the entire palace (save for a male stable hand) and hardly anyone else spoke to her. So when the baby chose to arrive, she ended up having her child enter the world behind the barn, in front of a grazing pig-cow herd.

She cried and screamed in pain, finding slight relief in grabbing tuffs of grass and holding onto them for dear life. But the bone cracks had told her she would have a safe delivery, and she had faith in her predictions.

The baby had never aroused suspicions. Wu was never frail or slender, slightly plump, and the work clothes she had been given were already a few sizes too big. At the height of her pregnancy the baby only showed a little through her maid's dress, and then people just assumed she had gained weight.

Another push, she told herself, and her baby would be here. No one heard her, except maybe the Earth Kingdom stable hand. But if he did, he never said anything. Everyone was awaiting the birth of Prince Iroh's son, who was due any day now (doctor's had said the baby would be an early birth, by a few weeks).

With a final pull on the grass and moan, her baby entered the world in a field behind a barn. As foretold, her baby was a boy. As much as she was tired, Wu forced herself up and pressed her son to her chest.

His crying was loud at first, but he quieted after a few minutes of her holding. She looked down upon her sweet baby boy and she thanked the spirits he looked almost exactly like Iroh. Hastily, she added another thanks for not having any benders in her family.

As the sun began to rise, Wu was wandering the halls of the Palace with her son bundled against her, wondering what to do. Run away? Yes, it was her only hope. She could only pray this boy would not be a fire bender…

She picked up her pace, concocting a plan as she made her way towards the gates. She almost collided with another woman, whom she made out to be another one of the Princess's maids, a shy Fire Nation peasant. She mumbled a "Sorry," and attempted to brush past, when she noticed she was carrying something.

A blue-faced baby lay unmoving in her arms.

For a few minutes, neither woman moved. They stared into each other's eyes, wondering what to do next. "Ti," she said, addressing the Fire Nation maid, "I have never told anyone this, but I am a powerful earthbender." She was lying, so what? A white lie never hurt anyone. As far as anyone in the palace knew, she could have come from a noble family of master benders. "And as long as you tell no one of this, I shall let you live."

Ti couldn't find it in herself to croak out any words, so she dumbly nodded her head.

"Now," Wu continued, "who is that baby?"

"T-the Prince," Ti stammered. "I am on my way to inform our Lady that her son did not make it."

Wu found her back straightening. A plan formed in her mind. "No Ti," Wu was finding difficulty believing she was being so bold, so sneaky. "You are on your way to bury my dead baby, who no one knew about, while I am going to deliver the little prince to the Princess."

Ti's eyes widened. "Understand?" Her voice was firm, and to this day, Wu still was in shock by how commanding she had been. Once again, Ti bobbed her head up and down, too scared to disagree. "Good. After tonight, I will be gone. You will never speak of this again. If you do, I will hunt you down and send a rock smashing down upon your head." It was stern, but commanding; enough to knock fear into the shy woman.

Wu held her head high and briskly walked down the hall, going in the direction Ti had been heading. She found the chambers and with a plastic smile, presented the Lady with her son. "He is a healthy boy," Wu found she still had a shred of bravery left in her. After this, she would collapse onto her bed. But she would be gone before the sun raised the next morn.

"Oh, thank you, Wa," the Princess said approvingly, mispronouncing Wu's name once again. "Please fetch Prince Iroh and tell him I have delivered a healthy heir to his throne." Exhaustion was coming quickly now, arriving with the first wave of tears. Seeing her baby, her son, in the arms of another woman, was simply too much. She managed out a nod before running out the door and collapsing against the wall in sobs.

As it would be, Iroh himself was on his way to his wife's chambers to see his son or daughter when he nearly tripped over the crying Wu. Pity took over his heart and he bent down to Wu's level. "Wu, is everything alright?" He asked, concerned. No one would ever know, but Wu had always held a small place in his heart.

"My son," she croaked out before realizing she was speaking to someone. Even though it was hard and she was so tired, she abruptly stood, doing her best to wipe her tears. "I mean, your son. He is a beautiful baby boy, I am just, so happy for you." She choked on happy. A wobbly grin painted itself across her full lips.

Over come with joy, Iroh could only distantly notice that she was lying. "Well, if you're alright," he said hurriedly, anxious to see his son. Wu nodded.

That was the last time she thought she would see Iroh.

---

When she saw him, aged and plump, riding on the back of that beast with an angry looking boy and a vicious woman, she couldn't have said she was surprised.

But then again, Wu, now called Aunt Wu, was a fortune teller; she was never surprised.

She knew he would refuse her offer, but when her eyes fell upon the boy for the second time, she stared at him for a few moments with fascination. "Oh, but what about you? You have a touch of destiny on you, I'm sure," she taunted teasingly, a smile upon her face.

The boy looked a bit shocked to have her talking to him, but quickly turned his head away. "No. We have to be moving."

He began to make a movement for the woman in front of him to whip the beast again, but Aunt Wu quickly spoke out again. "Are you sure? Don't want to know your love life? A nice Earth Kingdom girl for you perhaps?"

Suddenly, Iroh realized that Zuko was not the one being spoken to. He looked to Aunt Wu with amazement and shock and was still staring after her even as the shirshu began to carry them away, back into the woods.

Months later, as he saw Zuko sharing an intense moment with a young Earth Kingdom healer, he thought maybe, that even if he couldn't have his love with a girl with brown hair and green eyes, his nephew could.

------------

**Yup. :)**

**Still taking requests. As long as it isn't Zutara or Kataang, I'll do it. I want to do something different; unique. And no slash, please. I'm horrible at that and would probably just butcher it.**


	3. Proud

**Title: Proud  
Pairing: Minimal Zuko/Toph  
Rating: G**

--------

"You have a scar."

It wasn't a question. With a mixture of shock and anger (perhaps amusement?) he stared at her. Nothing seemed particularly different about her right now, just that she seemed to be looking at him. This was rare with Toph, since she her head was usually facing the wrong way when she talked to you.

"Yes." It took him a while to get out, but it was manageable. When his father fell at the feet of the Avatar, Zuko had declined the option of Fire Lord. His uncle was much more suited and would choose his own heir, even if it were to be Zuko himself. He was taller now, by a good few inches, his shoulders were broader and his features were less boyish. He never returned to the ponytail; ponytails were a significance of loyalty to a nation, which he certainly was not. The only person he was loyal to was his uncle.

And the Avatar's party perhaps, but he would never say that aloud.

"Could I touch it?" She too had grown—she was still four years younger than him and shorter by a reasonable amount. It was clear that she, unlike Aang, would never be very tall. She grew to a full 5'3" and kept her petite frame. She wasn't hour-glass shaped like Katara, with smaller curves but she was still beautiful, whether she knew it or not.

He hesitated. Toph simply sat there, waiting for her answer. Toph was not a patient woman (he had learned this the hard way) and she could only wait for so long. "…I suppose—"

Immediately, before he had a moment to finish his sentence, she scooted towards him and began to reach for his face. Awkwardly, he took her hand, leading it to the burn mark. He could feel her flinch slightly of the feel of the charred skin.

She got used to the feel of it quickly. Her eyes closed. "It's an old scar."

Zuko assumed she didn't know how close she had leaned in. "Yes," he gulped. Truth be told, he was feeling quite uncomfortable.

"Not as old as you are though," she mused. "You've let this stupid scar ruin and run your life." He wanted to say something, he wanted to fight, scream, yell, throw fire, but couldn't find it in himself. "You carry it like it's an extra weight. Its part of who you are, not some thing hanging off the side of your face waiting for the right moment to fall off."

He could feel her breath on his cheek. He was kind of wishing someone would come in to interrupt her, but at the same time, didn't. It confused him.

"I want it off," he said, after a while. "I want something to make it go away. You should know what that's like." His voice had grown cold. She dropped her hand and sat back, eerily staring him directly in the eyes.

"I know what it's like to be different, if that's what you're saying. But Zuko, everybody is different. Look at Aang, damn, he's as different as different gets. He's this happy-go-lucky guy who would have been happy just being an average air nomad, but he got stuck with this huge responsibility and danger. And Sokka; he's not a bender, but he's still clever as hell, even though no one will say it to his face. My blindness makes me who I am. I wouldn't change myself for anybody else; why would I do it for myself?"

He found himself silent. Toph was still waiting for his answer when the doctor appeared in the doorway and called her name. She stood, without even mumbling a 'good-bye', and followed the doctor. Her head was held high and as he studied her, he saw she was right. She did not carry her blindness like it was a weight, she was proud of it.

The next ten minutes were spent with Zuko letting his hand explore his scar. He rarely touched it (he had done it once and it had spooked him) and it had been years since the flame burnt his skin. It was not as prominent now (scars always fade away somewhat, even slowly) but it was still rigid under the skin of his fingers. He shuddered, but took a breath and brought his hand up again.

Another nurse brought him back into reality, calling his name. She motioned for him to sit on a table and then brought out a white ointment. "We have your scar reduction ointment right here, sir." She said, taking the lid off of and dipping her fingers in it.

She was inches away from his face when he spoke out. "No."

She flinched, surprised. "I thought you—"

He looked back to the door and saw Toph leaning against the frame, smugly smirking. He saw the bandage around her wrist, where she had sprained it. A rare, albeit small, smile graced his face. "Not anymore. The scar stays."

The nurse simply shrugged. "Whatever you say."

As Toph smiled at him, Zuko felt his heart flutter, for just a moment. And for one of the first times in his life, someone other than Iroh was proud of him.

---------------

**I wont ever really ship this pairing, but I certainly do love the concept of them being friends. So yeah, I thought htis was semi-Zuko/Toph, as requested.**

**Please keep requesting. I might submit some boring drabbles featuring Ozai's Angels and some Kataang stuff, but that's boring, in my opinion.**


	4. Return

**Title: Return  
Rating: K  
Pairings: Song/Suki friendship, hinted SongxZuko**

* * *

"No animals!" The bureaucrat cried, glaring at the ostrich-horse. Frightened, it shuffled behind Zuko. "You may not board this ship until that thing is gone!"

"But please Miss, we need this pet for our travel," Iroh tried to plead, chancing a glance at his nephew. His grip was tightening around the animal's reins. It was bad enough they had lost it in the desert; now he had to get rid of it? He couldn't just abandon her—it. It needed to be returned.

"No!"

Exasperated, Iroh turned to Zuko. "Zuko, we must sell him."

"But—" Zuko trailed off with Iroh's headshake. "I…" He sighed, but reluctantly nodded. "Alright. I'll sell it."

"You don't want me to?" Iroh asked. His concern was hidden poorly; nor did it look like he was making any attempt to. With his back turned to Iroh, he shook his head with a soft, "Uh-uh."

He returned twenty minutes later with a small bag hanging on his waist. It jingled when he walked. Eyes shut closed, he walked straight up to the ticket-manager. "May we have our tickets now?" He growled. The lady harrumphed, but stamped the green and gold passes nonetheless.

---

Braid swinging behind her, a calming humming coming out of her mouth, and a content smile on her face, a young woman stepped off the ferry. It was rare to see anyone getting off the boats, as opposed to going into the boats, like most of the refugees would, but anyone who worked at the terminal was used to this one.

"Afternoon, Song!" A pretty security guard called out to her. Song waved back with her free hand, the other wrapped around and empty box used for supplies.

"Hello Suki," she greeted while passing.

"See you next month?" Suki's grin was undeniable.

"Of course," Song giggled back.

"Are you traveling on foot now?" Glancing around, it was plain to see that Song's beloved ostrich-horse was not in its usual spot. And now that she was thinking back to it, she didn't recall Song entering on it.

Song sighed. "Unfortunately. He was stolen by these t—well, let's just say he was stolen." Suki nodded, adding her condolences. Song was too polite to drop her shoulders, slightly angry and sad that her missing pet had been brought up.

Suddenly, as if she were a little girl just given a brand new doll, her eyes lit up. The empty box clattered to the floor.

And then she was running—it had to be. It was him; he was here, of all places! Suki's amazed gaze quickly melted into a smile. Her healer friend pressed her neck into the nape of the animal and held it tight. At first the ostrich-horse looked awkward, but upon recognizing the person hugging him, relaxed and let out a merry chirp.

The man holding his reins, surprisingly, was not angry, more like surprised. "You like this beast, yes?" He rubbed his hands together greedily.

Taken of guard, Song pulled her head out of the animal's fur with wide eyes. "Oh, I don't have any—"

"She'll take it," a female voice said from behind. Song whirled around to see Suki with one hand on her hip and smiling.

"Suki, I don't have any money," Song whispered at her friend. Pretending not to hear her, Suki stepped in front of Song. The smile was gone, replaced with a fierce, determined look.

"Twenty silver pieces," the man said.

"Fifteen," Suki barked back.

"Eighteen."

"Deal." The money was handed over, and the reins slipped into the healer's hands. Suki demanded nothing else be said, and with a smile, returned to her post. Song stared at the reins for a few minutes, and with a soft smile, harnessed the ostrich-horse.

At the very moment that doors were being built for her departure, a ferry was leaving its dock. A young man with a prominent scar stood by the railing, watching her ride into the dark tunnel. He was doing his best not to smile, but his spirits were bursting with energy. The wind ruffled his hair; he gave into the smile, and closed his eyes.

Nothing could bring him down right now.

Uncle returned moments later, carrying two bowls. One was for himself, the other for his nephew. Zuko stared down at the mucky meal; his temple began to pulse.

Well, almost nothing.

* * *

**Another Soko oneshot/drabble/thing. -sigh- I'm hopeless.**


	5. Silent Arrows

**So here's the thing. I've been having a really hard time lately; just got told I'm clinically depressed. I dont want sympathy, that's just stupid, but I'm telling you all this because it means I wont have much energy when it comes to writing. So oneshots and drabbles and maybe a chapter on certain things here and there, but dont expect much. Sorry.**

**Title: Silent Arrows  
Rating: PG  
Pairings: None  
Summary: **

He hated his people. He was an archer, true. He fought for a better world; one without the fire nation. Little did his friends know, his vendetta ran deeper than they thought.

* * *

He hated his people. He hated them.

He hated them with every ounce of hate he could muster in his body. He was disgusted with himself for being related to them, for once training to become the kind of person who slaughtered his friend's family.

It was lucky (he would find) that he couldn't firebend- no, that was his brother. Haughty and arrogant they were both intended to be raised, but when his parents realized he wouldn't be a firebender, he was looked down upon, and no longer given the same treatment. He sat at the end of their wooden table, watching as his parents fawned over his younger brother.

They talked to his brother; asked him what he had done that day, how he was feeling, or if he had any plans for the upcoming weekend. If _he_ tried to speak up, they (only barely politely) told him not to interrupt. Soon he began to speak less and less, casting down his eyes and speaking only when spoken too.

On his tenth birthday, his parents gave him his first set of arrows. On his eleventh birthday they were replaced with nicer ones, and so on until his fifteenth. He began to practice with them, and as time will do, he started to get good.

He found he was better from long distance and traveled as far as the cliffs of the capital or the fields. No one noticed when he slipped out; he was so quiet already the house was the same with or without him. The men at the marketplace grew accustomed to him passing their shops and waved at him.

"Hey boy," They called, "where ya going?"

And he'd pause, because he was polite, and gesture towards either the cliffs or fields. A small smile sometimes followed. "Why?" They'd ask, laughing. They knew the answer, but they'd ask just the same. He knew not everyone in his nation was bad; a fair portion of them just believed what they were taught. These people- these simply merchants, they cared not for the war.

They didn't worry if they would win or not, they didn't care if the Avatar was killed; all they cared about was the crop season and if they would make enough to put food on the table. And he liked them for that.

"You goin' out to practice with them here arrows?" And he would, and that would be it. He'd continue walking, maybe purchase lunch for the day, and pass their stalls again an hour before sunset.

On the day of his fifteenth birthday there had been no gifts. His little brother had turned thirteen the month before, and so was eligible for the army. When he came home that evening, expecting a new set of arrows, he was surprised to find a feast going on. A feast, for him? His parents had never shown this much respect for him before; maybe now they were beginning to notice they had more than one son?

No, he would soon discover. The feast was not for him. His brother had been given his first set of armor today and fired his first flame at a captured earth kingdom soldier. That was the way they dealt with their captives; lined them up in front of new recruits and had them practice their aim.

They were supposed to fire at the arms, but often (sometimes purposely? He wondered) they missed. Those who lived through combat practice were either sent through the line again or shipped to some barge in the middle of the ocean.

He snapped. He yelled more, he cried more, and he threw more things than he ever had in his life. He tore through his middle-class home, destroying every piece of furniture in his path.

His parents cried out to him, his name rusty on their lips, begging for him to stop. His brother had, in his pathetic arrogance, had taken stance and fired a useless shot. Horrible attempt after horrible attempt, he quickly grew tired of his brother's bending. He reached behind him and pulled out three arrows.

The years of practice were impossible to miss. Taking a grand total of five seconds, each arrow was aimed and fired. His brother found himself pinned to the wall, unable to move. Their parents were in awe. Their (thought) useless elder son, who couldn't bend, had just taken down his brother and destroyed their home. Their younger son, who could bend, was stuck to a wall by only three arrows.

Heavy breaths escaped his lips and he stood still for a long while. His parents held each other, watching with wide eyes. After ten minutes, his brother had realized he wouldn't be able to pull the arrows out himself and joined his parents in staring.

He closed his eyes, and pulled the straw hat that rested around his neck up, making his eyes look dark. Suddenly, he looked different. He didn't look like a Fire Nation boy who might've been training to be a Yu Yan archer. He looked like an Earth Kingdom young man who had led a troubled life. His mother gasped.

"May you all burn in the hell you've created," He said. His voice was hoarse from lack of use, but the message got through. And with nothing more than the arrows on his back, he left.

* * *

**Hopefully you've picked up who this is about. Sorry if it got hard to understand, me never saying his name.**

**I'll give you a hint: It's not Zuko and it starts with an L and ends in a ongshot.**

**Yeah. It said that fire nation burned down his village or whatever, but I'm assuming he lied. What's he gonna say to Jet, "Hey I'm Fire Nation, I know how much you love us, but I don't like my people and I'm a sort of refugee. We can still be friends though, right?"**


	6. How To Know

**Title: How To Know  
Rating: PG  
Pairing(s): Obvious hinting at Soko, onesided Haru-Katara (got a fancy name for the pairing? Dunno)  
Summary: His mission was to give her family the news her father was coming home. He ended up doing so much more.**

* * *

"Have a seat," she told him. There was sternness in her voice hidden behind the warmth and kindness, and he decided it would probably work best for him if he were just to obey. He took a moment to study her, and decided he had found the right girl. She certainly fit the description enough; petite, braided hair, warm, somewhat empty eyes, and a (platonic, he noted) beauty. 

"What's your problem?" She asked, routinely lifting his arms and pressing around his chest. Got right down to work, but showed sympathy; now he was positive he had her. She was somewhat surprised when he didn't react to her poking and prodding, instead tilting his head back and studying, but she didn't stop.

"Not a problem," he said with a smile on his face. "A solution."

Her arm's dropped. "I—what?"

"He's coming; he's coming back to you." A large smile graced his already handsome face, ready to widen when she threw her arms around him and rejoiced. Instead, he found it faltering as she whispered the name "Li" immediately. This wasn't supposed to happen, he thought curiously. Li wasn't her father's name, he was sure.

His forehead lines creased as if to tell her that she had said something wrong. "I had heard his name was Tong," he said, more to himself than anyone. He had meant to say it under his breath, but obviously it wasn't soft enough. She had heard him; that much was obvious. Her back straightened, her pupils seem to shrink against the whites of her eyes, and a faint blush trailed across her apple-cheeks.

She right away kicked herself for rushing to think this boy had been talking about the same mysterious traveler who had disappeared with her pet and a part of her heart. After that, the name he had mentioned registered in her head. _Tong_, she thought somewhat bitterly. The name was so alien to her; but then again, it was better off than the word 'Dad'.

She choked on her words several times before being able to get out anything. "What did you say?" She was only able to whisper it, and cursed silently for not being strong enough to hold back gathering tears.

A small smile—enough for comfort—and he placed his hands on her shoulders, letting her cry into the crook of his neck. He didn't know her and he knew after today he would be off into the next village to inform the families their earthbenders had fought back; they were coming home. He wouldn't see her again, but that was why she needed this.

She felt horrible for crying, but she couldn't deny…it felt so good. She was so tired of holding in all her pain, all the tears that had built up over the years, that when it was time for it to come out, it sure as hell would come hard. She had been compelled to collapse with Li and just cry her eyes out, but he wouldn't know what to do with her.

He'd be too shocked to react and by the time he realized what was going on, he'd either push her away or awkwardly pat her back. He too was hurt, but he was not as accepting of it enough to cry with her.

And so, within the tears of happiness and sadness, she cried for Li too. Someone had taken a hammer to his heart, someone close to him, and shattered it into a hundred pieces. Slowly he was gluing them back in place and it brought even more tears to know she had put one back in herself.

Once her eyes were dry, she pulled away and slunk to the nearest chair. He hopped back on the patients' table and they locked eyes. He looked used to this, and she wished he was a little more than just the messenger.

"Have you ever," she began slowly, after about ten minutes, "met someone who made…such a difference in your life, but were gone before you could even start to explain it to them?"

"Yes." He didn't hesitate. Pale blue eyes flashed across his mind.

"Did you ever see them again?"

"No." Her heart fell, perhaps for both of them. She wondered, would she see Li again?

"Was it romantic?" That had been a little hard to get out; it was an awkward question, but once she had started, the words flowed off her lips easy. She paused to ask herself if he was really the one she was asking.

Now he wasn't so sure. "Maybe," he said after a while. "She wasn't mine to have though; she had met the person for her long before I came into her life. She just hadn't realized it then, but I doubt either of them noticed I was flirting." He paused, studying her face and taking in her reactions. "It was different for you though."

She wondered how he could know this already, but let him go on. "When I met…her, she helped me. I sat back for the ride and let her lead…the only thing I did for her was encourage her strength. You, on the other hand helped each other. Both of you were hurt; you each made an impact on the other."

She took in the information silently and began to stare down at her hands. It was time to leave, he decided. He was just out the doorway when she called out to him. "How do you know?"

That sentence could be completed in so many ways. How do you know when you see love? How do you know when a bond is forged? How do you know about anything in life?

He said something about knowing these kinds of things, but both knew it was going right past both of them. He mounted his beast and left for the next village over, but she didn't move. She lost track of how long she sat in that chair, thinking about two strangers who had been more than just patients to her. She sat there until her mother came to the healing hut looking for her, where she ran into her embrace and told her the news of her father.

She would dream of tears, travelers, and love that night.

* * *

**I hope I made it obvious enough who I was talking about, not really using names. I love messing with the canon-verse. All that was said about Song's father was that he was taken away, like all the men, but for all we know he could've been one of the earthbenders taken to those barges.**

**...I know, I know, shut up. xP**

**Urgh, I've been so depressed lately.**


	7. Rebirth

**Hello, folks. So yeah, happy birthday to me; I'm 14 today. In celebration, I wrote a oneshot about birthdays and rebirth and all that...you'll see.**

**Title: Rebirth  
Pairings: SmellerbeexLongshot  
Rating: PG-13, on the low side**

* * *

Particularly, she hates the fact that her hair grows insanely slowly. It's enough to want her to dig her fingernails into her scalp and pull at the follicles- but she knows if she does that, she'll be back at square one. The day the Fire Nation soldiers (arrogantly, she adds) strutted into her village, her hair had been long. She had been but eleven and it had never been cut, reaching down to her butt.

At the time, she was the right figure for her age. She was young; they all were, so nothing was assumed about her gender then. Her village had put up a fight, but they had two total benders in the tiny countryside they called 'home'.

She was among the five of her village that lived. Two women had been sparred, both easily their most attractive, and taken with the soldiers. One of the earthbenders lived; he was particularly skilled and she never learned what happened to him. Last she heard, he was shipped into some metal place in the ocean. The other was an old man who had not moved from his chair when the soldiers began to set the town ablaze, smiling his kooky old smile and resting on his cane. The soldiers found him amusing, and left him among the rubble.

And then there was her. She was a coward then- now she curses at herself for it. But this is the past, a paragraph that has been already recorded and written, and her story is not near done. She must move on, ready for the next chapter.

Hidden, she had. Hidden among the hays and ostrich-horses, breathing slow, heavy breathes and shaking with every body that fell.

She blinks hard- she wants the memory out. She plays with her short, chocolate-colored brown locks, fiddling with the concept of growing it out again. She had cut off all her hair completely when she left the village, filled with rotting corpses. She wanted all memory of who she was _gone_, just like everything she once loved.

Of course it would grow; she is fourteen now and it has been three years, but she found that she wanted it short. To have it long…for starts, it gets in the way. Secondly, a reflection of long hair dancing on her shoulders has proven to be too much to take.

But still, she does wonder.

She started growing a few months ago; although she had given it her best shot, she could not hide her gender forever. She tried everything possible, from wrapping bandages around her chest to compress anything trying to bud, to demanding her own room, due to personal reasons. Most kids in their recruits had all types of burns and scars, so it wasn't out of proportion to ask something like that.

Of course, then she started bleeding. And not from a cut or scratch, like the boys did. Then it became just impossible. Now, anyone who has eyes can tell. She has stopped cutting her hair a few months ago and it's much shaggier; if she keeps it up she will look more and more feminine. Although partially hidden by her chest plate, she is starting to bud. Her lips are fuller, and she is much taller.

She curses puberty; she curses it to the Fire Lord's war room and back.

Within moments, she finds that she is not alone. It is Longshot, one of her few true friends. With practiced balance he steps onto her branch and sits next to her. She notices that in his hands he carries a pastry. He hands it to her; she looks to his eyes for explanation.

"Birthday?" She manages, surprised. And then she remembers; instantly follows a blush. How could someone forget their own birthday? "Thank you, Longshot."

He was probably the first to notice. No, he had been the first to know, she decides. It had been rather hard to miss; he had walked in on her wrapping bandages around her chest. She had begun her second roll around when he had entered her room, so nothing was visible, but her breast clearly stuck through the gauze.

He'd froze, widened his eyes (a rare exert of emotion), and blinked maybe twice. She too had frozen on the spot, arms halfway twisted around. Moments later she dropped the bandages and it rolled out to his feet. Both stared at it for a while; by now her hands had moved to cover anything that might've peeked through and the two were blushing madly.

"Before you say anything…" She started, but was silenced by his hand. Blush still claiming more than half of his face, he pulled up his hat and left. After that, she had collapsed against the wall and bitten her nails off.

He never told though, even before it would become impossible to miss.

And now they sit, on the roof of their barely-apartment, staring out over their half of the city (the poor side, she notes). "I can't believe I forgot my own birthday." He gives her a look. "True, I guess we have been pretty busy with Ba Sing Se. But still…and you remembered!" She thinks she might have seen red on his face, but he's looked away by now.

They stay like this for a long time, simply enjoying the presence of each other's company. After a while, she finds it suited to speak. "Hey Longshot?" She asks. He pulls his hat down. "Do you think that I should grow my hair out?"

He cocks her head at her, asking why. She sighs. "It's just…we came here to start over and I feel like more than just our intentions should change. I'm also going to stop…hiding…them." It's an awkward statement to get out, and she's blushing. It's dark though; she prays he doesn't see.

She doesn't understand it, but she feels tears well up in her eyes. "I'm sick"—she brings up a hand and smears her red war paint off—"of this paint, of this bandana; a tear rolls down her cheek"—a forceful tug and it's in two—"of this person!"

She stands and rips off the breastplate. It flutters down somewhere, but she doesn't care where it's gone. A pair of calloused and long hands find their way on her shoulders. She turns, and she's staring into the deepest, endless eyes she will ever see.

"Thank you," she whispers, and buries her head into his chest. The wind ruffles her hair, blowing it into a side part. She looks up to him, her hair blown messily, her eyes now not half-hidden by her blue bandana, and the smeared paint giving her cheeks an apple color. A strange thing happens then. His heart flutters and his stomach flops. It's quickly dismissed, but the memory remains. It confuses him.

An embarrassed look crosses over her (pretty? He discovers) features and she releases, stepping back. If there's one thing Longshot is good at, it's reading emotions; she's angry at herself, thoroughly embarrassed, and…confused?

Birthdays are meant to celebrate the day of your entering the world; birth, life, and the start of something new. Today wasn't just Smellerbee's fourteenth birthday; it was her first again. She was rebirthing herself, starting a new life. And like any other parent, he will watch over her and make sure she turns out okay. Because no matter what, she will always be his.

* * *

**-is in love with Smellershot almost as much as Soko-**


	8. Burning Hormones

**Warning: Spoiler if you haven't seen the Tales of Ba Sing Se.**

**Title: Burning Hormones  
Pairings: Soko, ZukoxJin  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Dont feel like writing one.**

* * *

Is it bad, he asks himself, to have feelings for two people? She leans in, her lips softly brushing his. He shivers; he's never gone this far with a girl before. Its impulse and he goes back for more- he is, after all, a teenage boy. Sixteen and only known one girl who hasn't tried to hurt him; its time for him to be a teenager.

In that split second, millions of things are flashing through his mind. This is it, his time! He's growing up and—a different image shines. She's smiling, capping her ointment, and telling them about roast duck. A hand is reaching for his scar, his heart is beating loudly when she rolls up her pant leg.

He winces; and then curses guilt.

He pulls away; his excuse is pathetic. And she really _wouldn't_ understand and it really _is_ complicated; mixed feelings are dangerous. He should know. The night was nice too, which makes him angry. It's bad enough he doesn't know where he stands in the war, but now he's confused about which fork on the road of love to take.

He lets out a jet of fire through his mouth, trying to burn the air as though he's trying to burn hormones.

* * *

**My shortest one yet; probably closest to a drabble I'll get. **

**Jin came off a little dry to me but I liked her enough, which is bad for my Soko love. I don't think we'll see her again though since she was mostly in a filler episode and he _did_ kinda walk out on her (would you really go back to a boy who on your first date left in the middle of a kiss?)**


	9. Cry in the River

**If you don't know, I'm depressed. So mostly right now my writing will ALL be depressing. -sigh-**

**Title: Cry into the River  
Pairings: Hinted LongshotxSmellerbee  
Characters: Mentioned Jet, Song, Longshot and Smellerbee  
Rating: PG-13 for major angst and death.  
Summary: Song doesn't know how she wound up in this swamp, all she does know is that she hates it and all it is doing is make her miss her mother even more. Although few good things come out of the swamp, meeting two certain freedom fighters are one of them.**

* * *

She doesn't know how she's got here. She doesn't know when she started running, when she couldn't take it anymore. Like most refugees, the only thing she and her mother had left was hope. 

But she would find that hope was a stupid glimmer of a wish that only the foolish relied on. She had been ignorant to believe in it. She'd hoped her father would home, she'd hoped the war would end, she'd hoped for better days, and disdainfully—_mockingly_, after everything she'd done for the sick—none came true.

Someone in the Spirit World was whispering into other's ears and pointing at the girl who had relied on hope. _Hope_, she spits bitterly.

She's been on foot for weeks. She's considered hoping for her ostrich-horse, but then has quickly reminded herself that hope has only destroyed everything she's loved. And now here she stands, staring up at the entrance to nothing. Vines limply hang off giant trees, the water is murky and to her ankles, and a thick fog looms over the entire stretch of swamp. She should've taken directions in the last town.

Treading through the water, she can feel things swimming around her feet. Normally she would've squirmed, but now she doesn't want to care if she makes it through this horrible swamp or not. She tramps on.

Ahead lays a small base of land. She rushes to it, and begins to undress. She only has three changes of clothes; two are her casual clothes, which were spared in the fire, and the work wear she had been wearing. Her work clothes, by now are soaked and she is forced to change into a much more revealing cotton slip. It stops before her knees, and if she had any dignity, she would feel bare.

She doesn't care though; not anymore.

"Song," someone scolds behind her. The voice is very familiar…could it be? She turns, and sure enough, her mother is standing with her hands at her hips, a very disapproving scowl of her outfit.

"Mother?" She chokes out. Her voice is weak from lack of use and pure shock.

"What are you doing, dressed like that? What if someone sees you?"

Tears form in her brown-green eyes as she stutters with her words. "I…I didn't want to ruin my clothes…" Song trails off, stepping towards her mother. Her hand reaches out to touch her face.

"I'm very disappointed in you," her mother says an instant before Song's hand reaches her face. She is gone before she can be touched. Her voice echoes once around the swamp.

Song's knees give out on her and she collapses to the ground. She hugs them to her chest and buries her face in the small gap between her legs. She cries again for the first time in weeks. For how long and how hard she is crying she does not know, all that she does know that she is _weak_ and should stop.

She doesn't. Rivers of salty tears pour out of her like a waterfall crashing onto sharp rocks below, sometimes falling harder with a hiccup. Her head begins to pound like someone is hitting their fists against her forehead.

"_You." A perfectly manicured finger points in Song's direction. Her pulse quickens and breathing speeds up; her mother subtly steps in front of her. "You know the travelers, don't you? You know who I'm talking about." Her voice is so cold and knowing, seeing through anything Song tries to hide. A sweet grin paints across her face._

"_It's okay, healer," she says, trying to be compassionate and sweet. She's good at it. "I just want to know where they went."_

_Song's eyes dart down; maybe if she ignores the fire nation girl, she will move on. Her eyes flash up—just for a split second—and the girl is angry. She can't be older than Song herself, nor her companions, and yet everyone is shivering with terror. _

"_I said," the girl's voice is angry and cold again; smile is gone, "what do you know?" Song wants to speak up, but two things are preventing her. The first is the fact that she can't process any words in her mind actually out of her mouth, she is so scared, and the second is the picture of Li's horrified, sympathetic eyes in her head._

_The girl is fed up by now. In the blink of the eye her arm shoots forward, grabbing her mother by her collar and pulling her towards the fire nation crew. Another smile has taken over her face, but this time it is far from kind. It is evil and sneering as the girl points two fingers at her mother's temple. "Maybe this will help you find your voice?" Eerily, the girl's voice is blank._

She has been rocking herself for perhaps hours, Song does not know, when something in the water splashes. Her head shoots up, clear water still rolling down her cheeks, and does her best to calm herself. The loud cawing of some type of bird echoes in the background.

Just when she has calmed herself, the water splashes again and from it ascends a snake-fish. It hisses and bares it's long, pointed, venomous teeth.

Song does not scream, but she does gasp out of pure terror. The beast is about to strike, and both are ignorant to the sound of air being sliced. Whizzing through the swampy fog is a wooden arrow. It hits the snake-fish in the neck, almost severing completely through. The creature wobbles for a few moments before collapsing into the water with a loud splash.

Song is still breathing heavily, partially from crying, before she realizes the creature is dead and someone is approaching. Splashing through the water is a boy with a dark coolie hat and a quiver of arrows on his back. From what she can make out, he has a larger nose and (although hidden) compassionate eyes.

He offers her his hand. Hesitantly she grabs it, feeling a little awkward about her attire. "Thank you," she says, though she is not too sure if she would've liked to be saved. "What's your name?"

He tips his chin up so he can look at her better; instantly she understands. "Oh," she murmurs somewhat sadly. "My name is Song." A corner of his lip curls slightly. She reaches down for her pack, which he silently takes from her arms and places onto his own back, bumping against his quiver.

She opens her mouth to protest, but a look from the archer shuts it.

They begin to walk, and after a while Song speaks. "Are you lost too?" He nods. "Are you trying to get to the other side?" It's such a stupid question, she notes afterward, but he still nods again. He looks at her; she's still getting used to deciphering his language and it takes her a while to comprehend.

"No, I'm not sure if I am," she says after a while, even after she's figured out what he meant.

---

They are tending the fire when they hear rustling coming out of the dark trees surrounding them. Her companion and rescuer signals for Song to be quiet as he stands, silently drawing an arrow from behind him. He aims it and holds it there, an intense gaze at the moving vines.

Moments later a boy stumbles through. He has a shaggy mop of hair and a awkward, lanky body. His eyes are wide and dazed, as though he's been wandering for hours.

Song then sees the most emotion ever displayed by her companion. He drops the arrow then steps forward (quickly, but not rushing) to the boy and hugs him. The archer then leads the other boy back to their little camp. Song finds the boy staring at her curiously, with a somewhat angry expression (she at first thinks it jealous, but can't see a reason for him to be).

The closer he gets to her, the plainer it is for her to see that he is not so much of a _he_ after all. You would either have to study her closely or well…be a girl to notice it. Song realizes she had been right; the girl was eyeballing her questioningly. "I'm Song," she says politely. She would've liked her voice to sound cheerier, but that's been something hard for her lately.

"Smellerbee," the other girl says after giving her another once-over. A small, brewing hatred forms deep within Smellerbee as she greets the pretty—no, beautiful—girl before her. She is fully developed, with full lips and big eyes—but not too big; like hers—and silky, long, kept hair.

In short, everything Smellerbee is not.

"How do you two know each other?" Smellerbee asks, attempting to smother any jealousy in her voice. Instead of looking to Song for an answer, she rolls her head to the archer-boy (who's name Song still does not know). He looks at her, and she nods with a small smirk.

"His name is Longshot," Smellerbee tells her after they've all gotten used to each other's company. By now, Song has learned that the two are traveling to Ba Sing Se with another boy, and all three had gotten separated in the swamp. The third boy was still nowhere to be found, but Smellerbee has assured her that he can take care of himself fine.

Song looks at Longshot, who is off to the side polishing his arrows and decides it fits him well. He catches her gaze and sends back a sideways glance, asking what she is looking at. She drops her eyes.

By the time Smellerbee speaks again, their fire is starting to die. "Did you…see anything while in the swamp? Something strange?"

The question catches Song completely off guard. "What?" She asks. Longshot watches them both as he scrapes a rock against the edge of an arrow. Suddenly consumed with embarrassment, Smellerbee gets halfway through her excuse before Song interrupts her. "Yes," she whispers. "My mother."

"I saw my Dad," Smellerbee adds softly. "He died in a Fire Nation raid, along with the rest of my village."

Song wants to be as brave and comfortable with it as Smellerbee is, but instead she furrows her brows and stares down at the twigs at her feet. Smellerbee looks to Longshot, who stops his sharpening and also stares downward. "You too?"

He blinks.

Smellerbee pulls her knees to her chest for warmth. "I don't like this place."

"Fire Nation killed both my parents too," someone says, and Song is shocked to realize that it is her. "A group of soldiers took my father away…and an evil girl looking for fugitives killed my mother."

The crickets chirp and all Song sees is Smellerbee's sympathetic eyes as everything around her flashes. Her head hurts.

"_You're not telling me everything!"_

"_No! Please, I swear, that's all I know!" She's crying now; so _weak_, Azula notes. _

"_Liar," she hisses. The solemn girl refolds her arms and shifts her balance onto her other foot. The third girl clasps her hands at her stomach and worriedly watches on. _

"_Azula, I think she's telling the truth." Song hears the panic in her voice; she feels sorry for them. _

"_Fine." Azula, the Fire Nation girl, releases and pushes Song's mother back towards her daughter. Azula gets not ten feet before clenching her fists and with a contorted face shoots a blaze of blue fire at Song. Song does not see it, but her mother does. _

_Song finds herself on the ground, watching the fire consume a person it was not meant for. _

_---_

Awkwardly, Smellerbee holds Song's hair back. Her stomach churns and she vomits again, sobbing into the gooey pile of all she's eaten in the past two days.

Longshot watches the scene unfold, unmoving. Finally Song's cries are too much to take and he picks up his rock and arrow. He hits the rough rock sharply against the arrow as he watches the embers escape from their dying fire, as if they are reaching for something better.

Then they fade away as if they were never there to begin with, disappearing into the terrible night.

* * *

**Well thats not depressing or anything. As you probably know, I like messing with the canon plot. **

**I might continue this. Might not. All you need to know is that they get out eventually.**


End file.
